


The Space In-Between

by saintroux



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Established Relationship, Hotel Sex, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Rutting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:13:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28300671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saintroux/pseuds/saintroux
Summary: There was power in it, knowing that Sid would submit to him in even this small way, that he knew when Zhenyaneededit.
Relationships: Sidney Crosby/Evgeni Malkin
Comments: 7
Kudos: 106
Collections: Sid Geno ABO Fest





	The Space In-Between

**Author's Note:**

> sliding this in right under the wire because my autumn has been insane, but it was so nice to enjoy a bit of writing again after a long break. <333

Being an old guy on the team had a lot of perks. Zhenya had a get-out-of-jail-free card for basically any event he didn’t want to attend. The rookies didn’t say shit to him when he wanted to soak his skin off in the sauna for longer than his allotted time. He didn’t get all stupid and nutted up during a game when some Omega so much as looked at him sideways. 

His days of creaming himself in his overstuffed briefs in public because something smelled particularly nice were few and far between on the other side of thirty. But they did happen. He’d grown used to the fact that he would likely never outgrow it. Nature or whatever.

But it was still annoying. 

And that’s how he found himself leaning against a bar top in some snow-bunny bar in Banff drifting off into oblivion over how sore his dick was in his pants. 

Sid was talking to Brass a couple of seats over, twirling his muscled wrist around the tiny straw in his drink, his fingers flexing. Zhenya kept spacing out thinking about those fingers wrapped around his dick and how maybe if he played his cards right he could get Sid to jerk him off in the handicap restroom and take the edge off so he didn’t knot in public. 

Zhenya was so focused on the simmering fantasy of it that he barely noticed the bartender at his arm again. The guy was tall, only a few inches shorter than Zhenya. He smelled cloyingly sweet. Heavy cologne. Some primal Omega scent wafting off his jaw that maybe Zhenya would have cared about at twenty-three but didn’t even register now, years deep into shamelessly scenting Sid’s skin for pheromones he didn’t have. 

“Refill?” the guy asked, like he was asking Zhenya to climb over the bar and drop his pants. Zhenya looked down at his empty glass and back up into the guy’s dilated gaze. 

“Water,” Zhenya said. He was sweating anyhow. It was clear that Sid wouldn’t stop talking anytime soon because he pretty much _never_ stopped talking anytime soon. Zhenya watched his mouth move, the shape of it a little shiny from his drink. Honestly, if he couldn’t get Sid’s attention, Zhenya might have to go into the restroom and deal with things _himself_. 

Zhenya drank the water when it came to him, not meeting the bartender’s eyes. His hands twitched when he slammed the empty glass back on the counter. Inside his pants, his dick felt increasingly claustrophobic. Someone came by and tapped Brass on the shoulder for an aside and Zhenya saw a meager opening, his feet eating up the space between himself and Sid without even thinking about what he might say. 

“You have fun?” He put an open hand on Sid’s lower back, low enough that no one could see, even though nothing else about his body language said casual or friendly. He was close enough to Sid’s neck to smell his aftershave, the clean scent of the moisturizer that Taylor had bought him for Christmas and he’d reluctantly begun using as the weather chilled. 

“Hey,” Sid said, turning around in his seat without answering. Zhenya could hear the rum in the pace of his words, slow and easy. His mouth was turned up in a small smile. “Where’ve you been?” 

“Around,” Zhenya replied, like Sid didn’t know Zhenya’s usual bar habits and wasn’t just flirting idly like he always did. It was a game at this point. Zhenya could say he’d been on the moon and Sid would give Zhenya that stupid grin that he loved so much, sliding like hot butter across his face. 

But Zhenya didn’t feel up to playing games. 

“Tired yet?” He tried to make it sound like ‘wanna get out of here’ without outright saying it. They both knew he didn’t have the upper hand between them and never had, but sometimes he liked to give himself the ego boost that he could toy with Sid the same way Sid toyed with him. 

“Maybe not,” Sid said, reaching out to hook a finger in Zhenya’s waistband, hidden in the shadows between their bodies. Sid eyed him up and down and Zhenya could see in Sid’s gaze that he was hiding nothing about how hard up he was right now. Pheromones or not, they knew each other. “Maybe I was having a good conversation here, eh?” 

“Maybe Brass is busy now,” Zhenya said, clipped, biting the inside of his cheek to stop his dick from throbbing. 

Sid didn’t even spare Brass a glance. “Maybe.” Zhenya pulled at the damp collar of his shirt and watched Sid’s eyes track the motion with interest. “You planning to head back and hit the hay?” 

“Come with me,” Zhenya said. He was itching all over from the stupid rut and not feeling particularly subtle. “Don’t wanna sleep.” 

Sid picked his drink up then and downed it, tossing the remaining bits of rum back like water and pushing himself off his seat to stand. “Yeah, okay,” he said. 

Back at the hotel, Zhenya’s fingers twitched trying to get the keycard to activate in the door. Zhenya felt Sid’s laugh hot and low against his shoulder blades where Sid was crowding him in. “Need some help there, bud?” 

“No,” Zhenya said curtly. The lock finally released and he hurried into the suite, tossed the keycard on the desk, shucked off his coat and let his scent fill the room. 

Before he could bend down to slide his shoes off, Sid toppled him to the bed nearest the door, the both of them falling to the comforter in a heap of sneakers and heavy limbs. Zhenya squirmed a little under Sid’s weight and Sid just stuck his whole face in Zhenya’s neck and took a long sniff. 

“Fuck, you smell awful,” Sid murmured against his skin, biting inelegantly at his pulse point. 

“You love,” Zhenya managed to croak out. 

“Was it always this bad?” Sid kissed his collarbone and the heated curve of Zhenya’s jaw. “Maybe I forgot.” 

“Ha ha.” Zhenya groaned. His body felt like it might split in two. Half of him wanted to splay his legs to the bed’s width and let Sid do whatever the fuck he wanted, and another part of him wanted to roll Sid over and fuck into him until they both tired and then do it again. And again. 

He could probably count on one hand the number of times he’d had Sid beneath him, which he would admit to a resounding no one. The rest of the league could keep thinking Zhenya was a mean, prickly Alpha and leave him the fuck alone with their questions. But even rare, the feeling of Sid’s thick body under his, Zhenya’s cock sliding through the crevice of his ass, between his muscled thighs, wasn’t something Zhenya could forget. 

“Want—” Zhenya croaked out, reaching his hand down between their bodies to stroke his aching dick through his pants. He popped the button and tugged the zipper down inelegantly. 

“Thought so,” Sid said, chuckling. He pressed down, trapping Zhenya’s hand, grinding his hips until Zhenya felt mad with how good the friction was and how it was entirely not enough. “You gonna say it?” Sid rolled his hips once more and sat up, rolling back on his legs until he was perched there at the end of Zhenya’s hotel bed, his thighs spread wide, the thick shape of his cock tenting his pants at an angle. 

Zhenya looked down and swallowed. His brain was hazy, drugged up on involuntary Alpha garbage and the sight of Sid spread out for him. There was power in it, knowing that Sid would submit to him in even this small way, that he knew when Zhenya _needed_ it. 

“Wanna fuck you,” Zhenya said. He dug his hand into his open pants and held the base of his cock where his knot would swell, feeling his pulse hammering there as clearly as if it were his chest. He hissed as Sid put a hand over his, pressing his thumb where Zhenya’s hand was until Zhenya saw stars. “Sid, fuck—” 

Sid smiled at Zhenya while he did it, and smiled the same dopey smile as he stood up and shucked off his shirt and pants and shoes, pinching Zhenya on the thigh to get him to scoot over. 

“Well?” he asked, flopping down on the bed on his side so they were front to front. He ran a hand from Zhenya’s balls to his neck, holding Zhenya’s throat between his thumb and forefinger. “You take too long maybe I’ll just flip you over and get mine, eh.” 

Zhenya took in a sharp breath and kicked himself into gear, leaning forward and kissing at Sid’s mouth until it was bruised and red, scrambling around with his pants around his hips and his dick bobbing in the warm hotel air, desperate to press his dick to Sid’s skin. “On your back,” he grumbled when Sid moved to turn over. “Move this.” Zhenya tugged at the waistband of Sid’s briefs. “Take off.” 

Sid took them off while Zhenya struggled with his own clothes and the underwear he wasn’t entirely sure why he had even put on in the first place. When they were both bare, Zhenya buried his head in the damp crease of Sid’s groin, biting at the tender skin. “Fuck, Sid—” He took another long whiff. “You smell so—” 

“I don’t smell like anything, asshole,” Sid snapped, though there was fondness in his tone. “Not to you anyway.” Zhenya just ignored him and licked all over Sid’s groin like he was starving, and hell—maybe he was. He held Sid’s cock out of the way and dragged long stripes across Sid’s skin until Sid was dripping and smearing the saliva and sweat all over Zhenya’s cheeks. 

Maybe other people thought it was weird, but Zhenya didn’t care. Sid smelled the best to him, not because some stupid biology said he should, but because Zhenya was in love. Fuck biology. Other people couldn’t make dynamic matches work because they were weak and insecure. Zhenya could do whatever he wanted. 

“Think I’m enough of a mess down there?” Sid asked from somewhere up near the nest of pillows, because he didn’t know how to turn off the bossiness even when he let Zhenya ostensibly take charge. “You’re gonna start knotting the bed at this rate.” 

Zhenya’s dick _did_ feel fucking good against the comforter. He was pretty sure there was a sticky puddle under the tip from his involuntary movements. “C’mon.” Sid scooted away from Zhenya’s mouth, his dick twitching as he readjusted, putting his hands in Zhenya’s armpits and tugging him up for a kiss. 

“Jesus, you’re sloppy,” Sid said into Zhenya’s mouth while they kissed. He fisted his hand around Zhenya’s heavy dick and Zhenya nearly cried, all of the pressure and itchiness he’d felt at the bar funneling down into his groin. He’d gotten distracted on the walk back and while they fumbled their way inside by some emotion that felt a lot bigger than he knew how to name. Bigger than love, bigger than how much he’d missed Sid’s hands on him in the past few busy weeks between practices and PT and a grueling schedule of games. But he needed—and he couldn’t—

Zhenya shoved at Sid’s shoulders to press him away and wrestled him onto his stomach, which he knew only worked because Sid was letting him. “That’s it,” Sid said as Zhenya climbed on top of him, pressing Sid’s thighs close and straddling his ass. He loved the picture it made, his dick pink and swollen resting on the fleshy part of Sid’s asscheeks where they curved up from his thighs. 

While Zhenya was busy staring, Sid brought a saliva coated hand back from his mouth and fisted Zhenya’s dick with a few quick strokes. “Do it,” Sid urged, impatient as ever. He directed Zhenya’s dick down to the dark, hot space of his groin, pressing up as Zhenya settled in, their bodies sticking wet together in the middle, Sid’s hand still trapped around Zhenya’s base. 

“Gonna knot you,” Zhenya muttered as Sid’s thighs clenched around him, thinking about the last time they’d done this, sometime last season in Sid’s huge bed back in Pittsburgh on a lazy weekend day. Zhenya had come so fast and hard that he’d deflated like a popped balloon, his body limp on top of Sid’s back, face tucked into the back of his hair. 

“If I let you,” Sid teased, though Zhenya knew he would, especially when neither of them had to linger around waiting for the knot to go down afterward. Cleanup was a bitch, but at least no one got a cramp from staying still. 

Zhenya let himself thrust a little erratically, quick and deep and selfish until his hips got sore, chasing the high. Under him, Sid groaned when Zhenya’s dick slid against his taint and Zhenya could feel the saliva and slickness mixing with sticky precome the longer they went. 

“Can you—” Sid started to ask, turning his head to the side so Zhenya could see the sweet shape of his gaped open mouth breathing across the pillows, allowing himself to let go a little. Zhenya knew what Sid wanted, but the angle was weird and trying to worm his hand underneath their combined weight just ended in Zhenya flopping forward, the breath punching out of him as his chest hit Sid’s back. 

Sid’s thighs clamped tighter around him. “Shit,” Zhenya hissed. It felt good. Really fucking good. “You want me to—” he began to say, not sure where he was even going with it. 

“Up,” Sid directed, pressing his ass back into Zhenya’s dick and groin until Zhenya could climb back to his knees. Sid pressed up on his own elbows then, bent forward with plenty of room beneath him. Zhenya guided his dick back between the clutch of Sid’s thighs and his free hand under Sid’s body where Sid’s cock was leaking steadily and hot to the touch. 

He let Sid control the pace like that, fucking back into Zhenya’s dick and forward into his hand while Zhenya’s knot swelled and he lost himself a little in the sauce, the hot wet slide of Sid’s legs, their vise-like grip tighter than any hole Zhenya had fucked. By the time his knot grew to its full girth Sid was just rocking on him, the both of them moving slowly together in unison. 

“Shit, I’m gonna,” Zhenya said, bending himself over Sid’s wide back so he could kiss the exposed nape of his neck, sucking at the pink skin until it turned a purpled red. He wondered if this was what that Omega at the bar had imagined, smelling Zhenya across the counter. But what did it matter, really, when Zhenya had exactly what he wanted right here, sweaty and hot in his arms, groaning messily into the pillowcase and dripping into Zhenya’s hands. 

“You close?” Zhenya asked, because he was about to fucking blow and having trouble stopping. He nipped Sid’s jaw and rolled his hips in a tight circle. 

Sid’s dick slid through his fist in slow, sticky drags. “Go for it.” 

Zhenya didn’t need him to say it again. He tucked both palms into the fat crease of Sid’s hips and took long deep strokes until he thought he might black out, over and over until he spilled over Sid’s balls, the mess of it sliding down Sid’s thighs and onto the bed. 

He lay there breathing for a moment after, slumped over with Sid’s hips slipping from his grip, gingerly pulling his dick from between Sid’s thighs.. “Shit,” he said, blinking sweat from his eyes. 

“You’ve been holding out on me with that,” Sid laughed, the sound soft and low. Zhenya smiled dopily at him as he craned his neck around to look at Zhenya’s face. “I’m fucking drenched.” 

Sid crawled out from under him then, flopping onto his back with his dick still hard and coated in Zhenya’s come, just kind of looking at him, knowing that Zhenya knew what he wanted. Zhenya was careful to position his lap as he slid down the bed, trying not to press his oversensitive knot against the bed. He licked at Sid’s groin like he had before, laving his tongue over and over in the creases and folds until he got to the base of Sid’s cock, holding it steady and lowering his lips around the swollen head, tasting himself and Sid mixed together all over it. 

“Your mouth,” Sid groaned. Zhenya kept his gaze on Sid’s face, watching him bite his lip raw. “Fuck, G.” 

“Taste good,” Zhenya mumbled around the mouthful. “Taste like me.” He took Sid in an inch or so more, just enough that his hand met his lips. He kept breathing in the heady scent, feeling drunk in a way alcohol never made him, drunk on the idea of Sid as _his_ , his man, his sure thing. “Mine.” 

Sid fucking lost it, then, his eyes scrunching up tight, his hand pressing Zhenya’s head down, tangled in his hair. Zhenya felt Sid release hot and a little sour in the back of his throat and coughed, pulling back so just the tip was on his tongue. He let the rest of Sid’s come drip from the slack corner of his mouth until Sid tugged him up, pressing their faces together for a sloppy kiss, Sid’s tongue roving deep into Zhenya’s mouth to taste himself. 

“You like that?” Sid asked him after a few minutes of lazy kisses, once Zhenya’s body was just a buzzing boneless heap of long limbs splayed across Sid’s lap. He tucked a hand into Zhenya’s hair and smoothed down an errant curl. 

“Yes,” Zhenya said, because he always liked it, everything, as long as they did it together. He swiped his thumb through the sticky come on his hip and stuck the digit in Sid’s open mouth. “Mine.” 

“Mine,” Sid replied, hand snaking down to pinch at Zhenya’s side as he scooted out from under Zhenya’s weight, hopping off the bed and sticking his face in his armpits. “Fuck, I smell like shit.” 

Zhenya snorted from his starfish on the bed. 

“You too, bud,” Sid said, this time grabbing Zhenya on his feet where he was most ticklish, laughing as Zhenya squirmed and kicked. “You _reek_.” 

Zhenya scoffed, shamelessly watching Sid’s ass as he walked to the washroom, feeling possessive and exhausted and in love all in one go. “Smell best,” he shouted as he heard the shower spray turn on. 

Sid laughed, somewhere over the hiss of the water and Zhenya closed his eyes, drifting, wondering if he’d be hard again by the time Sid emerged from the shower and if Zhenya could get a repeat performance. Maybe. He smiled softly at the ceiling thinking about it. People could judge their unconventional partnership all they wanted, look at them and roll their eyes like they thought one day one of them would just wake up and want a “real” partner to mate with. 

But Zhenya was happy. 

People didn’t know _shit_.


End file.
